Kyoko was the toughest punk you'd ever meet. Thanks to the turns her life had taken, her heart had hardened and become stone – and she sure as hell wasn't going to let it be polished into a diamond. She wasn't into that touchy feely, wishy washy, lovey dovey junk. She didn't need friends, and she sure as hell wasn't into any of that mushy holding hands, or staring deep into each other eyes crap.

Well, she used to not be into that crap. But everything kinda changed when she was actually in lo- er, dating, all of a sudden. When that stupid, infuriating, naive, idealistic, stubborn, strong, kind, wonderfully annoying bluenette'd waltzed into her life, out of the blue -no pun intended – Kyoko'd realized that maybe some part of her actually wanted that stuff. And that drove her nuts.

Come onif she had to be attracted to little miss justice, why couldn't it have just been a physical thing? If it'd just been thinking about the tightass in bed, wanting to have her as a lay, that would've fit her image. But even if she had had some of those fantasies – which she wasn't saying she had – they'd never been nearly as abundant as the stupid, cheesy romantic ones. If she'd had them, that was.

It was stupid, pointless, weak, pathetic, and really just plain sad. But Kyoko Sakura, selfish, heartless Kyoko who'd always been as tough as nails with a wit to match, loved holding hands with Sayaka Miki. The way their hands intertwined, fingers clasping each other in what felt like a silent promise. 'Hey,' it seemed to say, 'Others might leave you, might not want you, might not have time for you. But not me. I want you. I want you close, and I need you here with me. I'll never leave you.'

And then there was that look. The look, that they'd sometimes share. A look of thanks, of appreciation, of lo- adoration that made Kyoko's face turn redder than her hair and made her look away every damn time. And that infuriating ass would just smile at her, all amused and lovi- likeily – which was totally a word – and put her head on Kyoko's shoulder, even when they both knew full well that … that...

Kyoko didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve the hand holding, or the promises, or that gorgeous smile. Not after her family, and Mami, and all the other countless things she'd screwed up. The wonderful things she'd destroyed over and over and over again. Sometimes, she talked to Sayaka about it. Sometimes. Sayaka always disagreed, of course. She held Kyoko close and called her all the cheesiest things she could think of, like the 'ray of light that saved me from the darkness' or 'the kindest person I've ever known' or 'idiot, you're lucky you're you – if anyone else else was saying this stuff about my girlfriend, I'd lay them out'. But of course Sayaka said that – she was too nice not to. Still, she always managed to make Kyoko laugh. Or cry. Either way, it always left her feeling just the tiniest bit better. And after every talk, Sayaka would grab her hand just a bit tighter, look at her just a little longer, smile just a little brighter. Like she was trying to convince Kyoko that she did deserve her after all.

Well, she'd convinced Kyoko to believe in justice again. She'd given her something to fight for, and convinced her that all that lovey dovey wishy washy stuff was just her style – and kinda awesome – after all. Sometimes, just sometimes, Kyoko didn't think she'd be surprised if Sayaka convinced her that she deserved her too. Because if their time together had taught her anything at all, it was that you couldn't count Sayaka Miki out for a second. Because Sayaka was annoying. Infuriating. Naive and idealistic. Strong, kind, wonderful, beautiful and above all else stubborn. And Kyoko lov- like-respected...

Ah, fuck it. The street rat had never been one to shy away the truth. And the truth was, Kyoko loved Sayaka for all that, and more. And maybe... maybe it was time she told Sayaka that. Neither of them had said those three words yet, and even if Sayaka was better than her at pretty much everything else, she'd be damned if she'd let Sayaka Miki beat her to it.

She had a reputation to uphold, after all.


A/N: So, here it is. The first in these Kyousaya feeling spews I call my oneshot collection. Just gonna lay down a few things. First, these do not necessarily all take place in the same universe as the show, or with each other; when they don't, I'll specify that. Second, I don't own PMMM and yadda yadda yadda. Third, some of these have been inspired by the 30 Day OTP Challenge. I will specify when that is the case as well. For this story, it was Day One: Hand holding. Fourth, thanks to my editor and dear friend Professor-Piggy for editing. Without his hand, these stories are not half as good. And fifth, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!